Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,11

feed her. I bought her a bowl that said World’s Best Dog and the most expensive dog food I could find — trying to help her gain weight, trying to earn her trust. These past six months she was now able to sit ten feet away from me.

Which was a drastic improvement.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” I crooned. One ragged ear perked up the faintest amount—and I was so happy I could have danced across the sand. She devoured her food, drank water, and stretched out in a patch of shade. Penelope couldn’t look me in the eye—too skittish—but if my company made her feel loved, I was more than happy to sit with her.

I loved Penelope. And wasn’t that the reason why I started Wild Heart to begin with—that harmony between animals, human beings and the earth?

A splash of yellow caught my eye. Careful not to disturb Penelope, I leaned forward on my knees. Dragged over a ceramic dog bowl that said you are my sunshine on the side.

“Are you getting fed twice, pretty girl?” I said, delighted. Maybe she’d put on more weight soon. Maybe she’d even let me pet her—

“Are you ready for our meeting? We’ve got nonprofits to visit.”

Penelope yelped and bolted. I glared at Jasmine, who was watching me coolly. The whole staff knew where to find me during these five minutes—knew and generally didn’t interrupt. I could see Penelope down the beach, tail between her legs. Looking fearful as she hunched behind the skinny trunk of a palm tree. The fierce protectiveness I felt for this mutt curled in my heart—and the understanding of that sent images from the Ferris Mark lab rising to the surface of my thoughts.

Lethal dose testing.

Irritation tests.

My gold rings glinted against the thin folder on the ground.

“Luna?” Jasmine said, slightly impatiently. “We’ve got a long list we need to cull down. You’re coming?”

The pictures of those rehabilitated dogs sparked to life.

The right decision?

Or the safe one?

“You know what?” I said, standing and brushing sand from my skirt. “I’ve changed my mind about that list you’ve got there. I’ve chosen the nonprofit I’d like to partner with.”

Jasmine arched a manicured brow. “Which one?”

“Lucky Dog,” I said. “You’ll need to put me in touch with a man named Beck Mason.”

7

Beck

“Hey, boss?” Wes said, kicking open the door with his combat boot. “I’ve got bad-ass news. I don’t think I have to stab anyone for you.”

Elián glanced my way with a grin.

“That so?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. It’d been a sleepless few nights, and not even a long motorcycle ride along Miami Beach had soothed my intense money anxiety. “Tell me about it.”

Jem squeezed in behind Wes—and it wasn’t hard to miss the blush on his cheeks when he realized she was standing next to him.

“Who are you stabbing?” she asked.

“No one,” Elián and I said in unison.

“’Cause I know a guy,” she said.

“So do I,” Wes said. They shared a shy smile.

“We all do. Wes,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, yeah. In about twenty minutes a famous billionaire is coming to meet you to discuss getting us money.”

I laughed. Elián looked shocked.

But Wes was nodding earnestly. “I’m not lying, swear. I just took a call from a woman named Jasmine Hernandez. She says a lady named Luna da—”

“Luna da Rosa?” Jem asked, jaw dropped.

“Who?” I asked. But Jem was already standing in front of me, pulling open tabs on my computer.

“Luna da Rosa,” she said. “She’s basically my idol.”

Elián looked up from his paperwork. “Did I see a news story about her last night?”

Jem bit her lip. “Yeah. She owns a company here in South Beach called Wild Heart. Cruelty-free makeup. She’s totally amazing, you know?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Jem clapped her hands together. “Here’s her page.”

I glanced at the number of followers on this site—Instagram. Twelve million.

“Huh,” I said. “Who is this?”

“Her company is cruelty-free, super eco-friendly,” she said. “It was a huge deal when she started it ten years ago.”

Jem was glowing. I was grateful to see it—whoever this Luna person was, I always appreciated seeing Jem and Wes excited.

“Why do you know so much about this woman?” I asked, curious.

Jem shrugged. “When I was in between juvie stints, I got into makeup, different brands. That led me to Luna. Also I, uh, kinda want to go vegan. She’s inspiring or whatever.”

She ran a hand over her mohawk, looking embarrassed.

“Me too,” Wes added. I narrowed my eyes at him—he’d